Comes With a Price
by AMiserableLove
Summary: Killian Jones hates being ignored, and that is exactly what Emma Swan has been doing since the moment they returned from rescuing Henry. Disregarding their one night spent together in Neverland, she's kept him at bay, carefully trying to maintain the control and balance in her life since their return. She can't afford distractions. He, however, sees things a little differently. *M*
1. Control

**So for those of you who aren't aware some of the girls on tumblr have decided to make _August CS Kink Month_. This story is my contribution. There will be approximately four parts to it (maybe five). It's gonna be kinda dark, pretty emotional, and pretty darn smutty. It will most definitely earn its M rating!**

**WARNING (for the love of God please heed the warning)—This is gonna get a tad murky and a little dark Hook is really going to push Emma to her limits—they're both dealing with their inner demons and I mean come on this is ****_Kink Month_** so please note the M rating! :) If you don't like gray(ish) fics please don't read. This is not rainbows and sunshine...but if you stick with me you might be surprised with the direction this goes.  


**P.S.-Posting this now because you are an impatient bunch ;) will further edit it when I get home later, please excuse any mistakes!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT.**

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_Her feet quickly carried her across the wooden planks of the ship, her soft steps sounding like cannon fire in her ears. Her destination in mind, her purpose clear, she moved swiftly throughout the darkened corridor, refusing to allow the many panicked voices in her head to come to surface._

_Release._

_She just needed release. _

_Since finding Henry the night before, defeating the shadow and its young and lost minions, she thought that maybe the tension in her gut, the heaviness in her chest would go away. But it had remained, rooting itself deep in her body, everything inside of her continuing to stay tightly wound. She felt ready to snap, ready to bend and break—but no matter how many times she assured herself that Henry was safe and they were headed home, she was unable to find relief. _

_Coming to a stop in front of the heavy wood door that loomed ahead of her, she took a deep breath, and without another thought, not allowing herself a chance to second-guess her actions, she moved forward, not bothering to knock as she walked straight into the Captain's quarters._

_Without hesitation her eyes immediately fell on him._

_He was standing at his desk, peering down into a small glass tumbler that held a dark amber liquid, the surprise on his face as he turned towards her was unmistakable, the wariness that crossed his features shortly after more than obvious._

"_Swan."_

"_Don't talk."_

_And closing the door behind her, she moved further into his room…_

Sitting in the empty and dark sheriff's station, Emma sighed and rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers as she tried to block images from her last night in Neverland out of her mind completely. It had been a one-time thing. Physical release. Nothing more. She had taken what she had needed from him, using his body to ease her of the growing and unyielding tension she had been unable to rid herself of on her own—images of her rising over him, the sound of his broken grunts and her breathy gasps ringing tauntingly in her ears as she closed her eyes, gripping her desk tight with a swift shake of her head, mentally demanding that she _forget._

They had been back in Storybrooke for two weeks now.

It had been two weeks since she had last seen him, avoiding him purposefully and keeping him at bay.

And for two weeks she had struggled to keep some kind of routine, immediately stepping back into her role as sheriff as she carefully tried to maintain the delicate balance of the fabled town around her. But it was hard, everyone was looking to her for guidance, the residents of Storybrooke treating her with an awe and reverence she was unaccustomed to as they began to once again view her not only as their sheriff but as their long-lost princess as well. Add her royal parents, a fallen evil queen, and a somewhat murky and powerful wizard to the mix, all of who didn't know exactly what their place was outside of the Enchanted Forest, and she was ready to drown herself in a bottle of Jameson—her desire to drink herself into a booze induced sleep and not wake up until the crazy had blown over, stronger than she'd care to admit to.

Neal being alive and well certainly didn't make matters any easier.

She had been shocked at first, ecstatic shortly after, and confused as hell later. Visions of desperate confessions at a swirling portal cruelly replayed in her head as images of her stolen night with Hook collided with them unmercifully. Completely at a loss, she hadn't known how to act, annoyed and hurt that both Neal and Henry had assumed she would so easily step into the motherly role of the happy little family the both of them so obviously desired. So instead of doing what her son wanted, her former lover expected and her parent's encouraged, she had closed herself off. Reinforcing her walls, she continued to avoid Neal's soft and gentle advances, curious by how little they affected her, worried by how often her thoughts drifted _elsewhere._

"I can't help but wonder, darling, what it is you're thinking about that has brought both a blush to your cheeks and a frown to your lips."

Groaning softly at the sound of the deep and lilting voice, she gritted her teeth together tightly, her eyes flitting up towards him as her heart began to beat rapidly against her chest and her throat went uncomfortably tight and dry.

"Hook."

He was leisurely leaning against the doorway outside of her office, dressed in his signature black and leather, his dark hair was mussed slightly from the wind, his eyes intense and blue stared at her unblinkingly, seemingly devouring her whole. And it jarred her, the way the sight of him sent a flash of heat rushing through her veins as her thighs clenched together unconsciously beneath her desk. The fact that he had so easily snuck up on her was both surprising and unnerving her…her body's reaction unwelcome.

Rising quickly, unwilling to be at any kind of disadvantage around him, she straightened herself fast, angrily pushing away the images that rapidly flew past her eyes—the way her body had moved over his, the feel of his skin hot against hers.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice came out firm and flat, and she couldn't help but feel relieved by the steadiness of her tone.

"I'm tired sweetheart."

Narrowing her eyes, she placed her hands on her hips, noting with some dismay that her gun was tucked securely in her desk, out of sight and out of reach. She was unarmed and defenseless. And almost immediately she frowned at the thought, the observation seeming out of place. This was Hook for crying out loud, the man who had taken her to Neverland, who had helped her find her son, who she had spent one night fucking senseless. She knew without a doubt, that for some reason when it came to her, he was harmless.

_She was fine. _

Still, she couldn't shake the inexplicable feeling of fear that danced across her skin, the danger-laced tension that lingered in the air between them.

"So go back to your ship and go to bed."

His smile was slow and calculated, the gleam of hunger in his eyes undeniable as he stared at her hard. "Is that an invitation love?"

Rolling her eyes, she leveled him with a glare, her spine going rigid as he continued to glower at her with blatant and unapologetic lust. "You drunk Hook?"

The smile grew into a full-out grin, the way it spread across his lips sending a burst of something hot and entirely unwanted straight to her belly before settling low and spreading slowly.

"Funny, the last time we were alone together I believe you called me something different…my given name among other things."

The night she had gone to him, she had slipped only once, his name, _Killian,_ had tumbled past her lips just as she was on the verge of the climax she had so greedily craved. And the sound of her own voice whispering it had shocked her so completely that she had, without hesitation, closed herself off again, unwilling to permit a second mishap.

Refusing to allow herself to consider the night any further, disregarding the way her entire body seemed to want to draw closer to him, she shook her head and pursed her lips. _Control_. She needed to maintain control. That was what she truly wanted and desperately desired.

"I'm not in the mood for games Hook…_leave_."

Thinking back on it later she'd realize her mistake.

Taking her eyes off him, even for a second, as she had glanced down at her desk to pick up her keys, intent of leaving and showing him out in the process, had been stupid.

He moved fast, faster than she'd anticipated, faster than she would have ever given him credit for. Before she could blink, snap at him, push him away; he had her shoved up against the nearest wall. Forcing her back against it, she winced as her head rapped back almost painfully. His hook at her throat, his good hand snatched both of her flailing arms and captured them at her wrists, pinning them high above her head before her body had the chance to truly react and fight back like her brain was screaming for her to do.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her voice came out breathier than she would have liked, her eyes widening as the sharp tip of steel dug into the her sensitive skin.

"As I said darling, I'm tired." His words spoken low, whispered across her skin, and shifting his body, so that she could feel all of him pressed against her, she saw the white glint of teeth as he flashed her a somewhat cruel smile. "I'm tired of walking around this bloody town unnoticed as you sit on your high and pretty horse, ordering those beneath you around, ignoring others when you see fit." With the words, he moved against her again, this time grinding his hips into her ever so slightly, the shuddering breath the action drew from her causing her to curse internally as lust and fear brutally warred inside of her. "I don't like being ignored Emma."

He was crazy.

The son of a bitch had lost it.

And so _she_ had to stay composed, calm…_in control._

Staring up at him, trying to convince herself that the goosebumps that popped up across her skin had nothing to do with the position they were in and everything to do with the anger she felt towards him at the moment, she tilted her head up defiantly, leveling him with a livid and unwavering glare. "If I had known you couldn't handle a one-night stand Hook, I never would have come to you." Smiling at him, the callousness of her grin matching the ruthlessness of his own, she leaned towards him slightly, disregarding the way it forced his hook even further into her skin. "I could have easily waited until we got back to Storybrooke, gone to someone,_ anyone_ else."

_Lie. _

It was one big fat lie. But he was currently spinning her world into a chaotic frenzy, his actions not something she had predicted, wanted, or appreciated. _Control._ She needed to regain her control. It was all she had, all she could really count on. If throwing blatant untruths in his face could help her maintain some kind of even ground then she'd continue to do it.

She couldn't risk the consequences of allowing herself to fall, crash and burn.

It was too scary to even think about.

As soon as the safety of her son had been guaranteed she had felt herself begin to fray and crumble around the edges. The realization that she had a long-lost family, a destiny, a path, finally sinking in after months of steadily ignoring it while focusing on whatever new obstacle had been thrown her way. Now that things were eerily quiet, she found herself no longer able to run from everything, powerless to hide from what was in front of her. With so much out of her grasp, beyond her reach, control particularly _self-control _was something that she very much-needed in her life, and she'd be damned if she'd let some infuriating and horny pirate take it away from her because she had allowed him one night of mindless fucking.

_Lie._

"Oh this is going to be fun."

Snapping her attention back to him, she noticed with slight dismay how close his lips were to hers, his head bent down slightly as he murmured the words softly.

"Wh-what are you talking about? What's going to be fun?" she couldn't force her eyes away from his mouth, her lips barely moving as she spoke. He was too close, she felt dizzy, unstable.

"Breaking you."

Her eyes flashed to his at the statement and she felt a sick feeling of fear shoot inside of her, cold and prickly, as she swallowed thickly around the sudden lump that had lodged itself in her throat. "_What_?"

"Oh yes princess," his fingers tightened around her wrists almost painfully, his hook moving up her throat to rest under her chin. "I'm going to enjoy bending you, breaking you, ruining you...forcing you to succumb to _my_ will."

"Jesus Christ…you're insane." She pushed against him, trying to loosen his grip on her wrists only to have him growl low under his breath. His eyes glinting dangerously, he wedged a leg between her thighs, the feel of his knee brushing against her making her hot with both terror and lust.

And she hated herself for the latter.

"You're on the verge of breaking darling, you're practically begging for it. The night you came into my cabin I let you take what you wanted from me thinking that it might help to ease some of your turmoil. But quite the opposite happened didn't it?" He bent his head lower, his lips a mere breadth away from hers. "You closed yourself off again, you crept back inside yourself, you pushed me away. And now, _now _you're struggling to hang onto some semblance of control because you fear you're about to crumble and collapse. Pity really."

She wasn't sure what scared her more, the fact that she was in a very compromising position with a clearly deranged pirate or the fact that he could read her so well. Regardless, every survival instinct inside of her was suddenly kicking into overdrive, pushing her to fight. "Let go of me now or so help me God I will have your ass arrested faster than you can—"

"No darling." He chuckled low and deep, cutting her off harshly, the sound settling itself enticingly around her. "Let's not make idle threats shall we? Because you see, I can read you. I can _see _you. You actually _want_ someone to take control, you're practically begging for someone else to take the reigns. Maybe not out and about in your precious little town, but somewhere else perhaps… someplace darker. " He brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, the hint of a touch sending a jolt right through her body as she flinched once again against his steely grip. "There's a passionate and fiery woman beneath that cold exterior you've so tediously and carefully put into place, a creature much warmer than the callous savior who came to me for a quick and thoughtless fuck."

At his words Emma sucked in a deep and shaky breath and lifting her head quickly, she stared into his vibrant eyes, the intensity and accusation blazing there nearly burning her alive.

"Did I offend you sweetheart? Are my words too crass and dark for your blue and noble blood?" he raised a black brow with the inquiry, his knee pushing against her suddenly throbbing core almost mockingly.

And desperate she tried to convince herself that the ache that was spreading between her legs was merely a physical reaction and nothing else…she really didn't want this. _She couldn't want this._ He was disgusting and dangerous and she should have never allowed him to fucking touch her.

"Or maybe you like being reminded about our night together."

"Go to hell." She spat out the words between numb lips, her eyes widening as he shifted backwards slightly and began to trail his hook downwards slowly—dragging it over her neck, across her chest, over her stomach and lower still.

"Do you think about it often? How you came to me? The way I felt buried inside of you?" His hook continued to move further down her body at an almost leisurely pace, coming to rest just above the waistband of her pants he ran it over the rim lightly. "Do you imagine it when you're alone? How you rode my cock, how you wrapped yourself around me, used me to make you shudder and moan and come?"

"Please..." She whispered softly, her arms going numb in his grip as her head bowed slightly, the burning feeling of a blush warming her entire body.

"Do you touch yourself thinking about it darling? Do you use your fingers to make yourself come, wishing it was me instead?" He moved his hook from the waistband of her pants, trailing it lower, until it came to rest at the apex of her thighs. Pressing the curve of the heavy metal against her, he nodded once, rubbing her crotch slowly. "I want you to think about it Emma. Think about what you could have had that night, what I could have done to you." Pausing, he pressed into her heavily, meaningfully. "You see _princess,_ you left before I had the chance to properly and thoroughly fuck you and now…_now_ I'm going to make you beg for it. I'm going to watch you break. I intend to drive you to the point of near madness. You will give me everything. You will yield to me completely." His lips found their way to her ear, and she shuddered at the feeling of his breath hot and wicked against her skin. "And you'll fight it and you'll _love_ it." Nuzzling her gently, his beard scraping her softly, she couldn't help but think his actions were somewhat odd when coupled with his brusque words. "You're going to realize just how badly you need me and only then when you come to me, pleading for me to take you, will I fuck you like you crave it, like you desire it." Rocking his hips into her, he moved purposefully. "Wild." He licked the shell of her ear. "Passionate." Giving her another jerk of his hips, followed by another slow and deliberate lick, she could hear the dark smile in his voice. "And unrestrained."

Heat, there was way too much heat.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't stand it.

"You're…you're out of your mind." She muttered, her eyes going big when she realized that somehow her hips had started to move in rhythm with his teasing strokes, her jeans suddenly felt too tight—the air around them stifling and laced with the scent of sea and rum and sex.

"Am I?"

"Y-yes."

Hook smiled at that, the grin deadly and devastating. "I don't think so sweetheart…you want this…you want it more than you'd care to admit to. You're desperate for it. In fact even as we speak, even as you deny it, I'd wager my ship that you want nothing more than for me to bend you over that desk and take you hard and fast."

He was right.

But it was _wrong._

And she hated him for it.

"Keep telling yourself that buddy…I'm sure most men who force themselves on women say something along those lines."

She underestimated him again.

Distracted, her focus was stupidly on his hook pressed against her core, and the gentle and deliberate movements of his hips, she wasn't paying proper attention to _him._

So once again she didn't have the time nor the bearings to react as he spun her around shoving her forwards and making her fall against her desk, her hands shooting out in front of her to grip the edges so as not to face-plant into the surface. He was on her within seconds, pushing his body into her from behind and pinning her against the table hard. Frantic, scared, and terrifyingly and undeniably fucking horny, she swept her eyes across her desk for a weapon, cursing its tidiness while longingly staring at the stapler that sat on the opposite end.

"Keep your hands where I can see them darling, that's a good girl."

Using his hook as the threat of a weapon once again, he placed it on the back of her neck and wedged his knee between her thighs, forcing her legs apart just as he had done earlier.

Staring down at the desk her fingers curled into the wood as humiliation crept up on her fast. "You're an ass."

"And you love it." His hypnotizing voice sang with mockery, the velvet smoothness, lingering in the air. "Are you wet Emma? Have I properly teased you? Are you aching for me to tear your clothes off so that I can slide inside that tight body?" He leaned over so his breath tickled her neck and pushing his hips into her ass, he rubbed his leather clad length against her backside. "Would you moan if I did? Scream and beg for more?"

"No." she ground the word out between clenched teeth, her thighs tightening around his knee reflexively as he continued to rub it against her, his hips still thrusting into lightly her from behind.

"You're a bloody terrible liar."

She refused to respond to that, her hands still gripping the desk tightly, she breathed in deeply as voices collided in her head, part of her begging for her to do something to regain her control while another grayer, murkier part reveled in the fact that she had lost it completely.

"Tell me you're wet"

_Oh God. _

Remaining silent, refusing to speak, her nails dug into the desk as her vision became hazy.

"Tell me that you're dripping for me, that you want me to slam into you and fuck you over and over again using your body like you had used mine…until your raw, broken, and thoroughly satisfied."

_No!_

_Yes._

_Please._

"No." her voice came out cracked and she winced at the sound.

"Don't deny it Swan." His tone sounded light, almost reasonable, friendly even; his words, however, were anything but. "I'll make a deal with you, tell me that you want me and I'll let you go…it's easy darling…give in. _Yield."_

"No."

"Don't be stupid Emma, just say it."

"No."

With a muttered curse, he began to grind himself against her ass more viciously the edge of the desk jabbing her in the stomach as he continued to keep her trapped against it with the weight of his body and the sharp metal of his hook against the back of her throat. Wrapping his free hand around her waist, without hesitation he snaked it downwards and began to rub his fingers against her, the action drawing an infuriating whimper from her lips as pressure coiled tight inside of her, the sound causing him to chuckle triumphantly as he picked up the pace.

"I could make you come like this, bent over your desk, fully clothed. Is that what you want?" His voice was rough and gravelly, the sound sending a hot shiver down her spine as he rubbed her furiously. "Would you like that?"

_Yes. _

She would, she knew she would, even if a large part of her hated herself for it.

"Goddamn it," she faltered, trailing off, and she had to momentarily collect herself before she could continue. "_Leave._." her voice barely carried over the buzzing in her ears, the brutal pounding of the blood in her veins.

Stilling his hips, his fingers continuing to cup her hotly, she heard him breathe in sharply, the feel of him exhaling stirring a few loose strands of hair against her skin. And for a moment she thought her words had struck a chord within him, her simple request stopping him from seeing his dark plan through.

_She should have known better._

When had he ever done what she had expected?

Wrapping his good arm more firmly around her waist, caging her to him, he pulled her from her bending position, so that she was standing upright and leaning heavily against him, his hooked hand coming around the front of her body and resting at her cheek, the steel cool against her flushed skin. Placing light pressure on her jaw, he forced her to strain her neck and look back at him as he continued to hold her to his chest.

Their eyes met immediately.

The steely determination only shadowed by the raw desire she saw in his gaze caused the pressure that he had built up inside of her to nearly explode under his unflinching scrutiny—the need to have him push her over that tempting edge running through fast.

"Yield."

"No."

Smiling slowly, ruthlessly, he began to grind his hips into her again, the friction of her clothes nearly driving her crazy as he swept his fingers down to her aching center and began to rub her mercilessly through her jeans once more.

"I can make you come right here and now pet. I can make you feel ashamed and angry for allowing me to do so against your will. Yield to me Emma. Tell me how you're wet, say you want me to fuck you and I'll stop…I'll leave you…for now."

Shaking her head, feeling the burning sting of tears at her eyes even as her body responded hotly to his words, she stared up at the ceiling confused—refusing to think about what her unintentional reaction meant about her, them_…this._

And as she considered the cool metal at her cheek, the strength of his arms, the way his fingers moved knowingly over her jeans, and the feel of his heavy arousal pressed against her ass, she knew, without a doubt, that she was going to lose, she didn't have the strength to fight. She _wanted_ him to make her come; she wanted the release. Which was why she had to get him to stop…she needed to regain her control, even if that meant giving in to him in the process.

"Alright." She whispered in a hoarse and nearly quivering voice, "I want you to fuck me. I think about it every goddamned day. I can't help it, I can't stop it. And I hate myself for it. I don't want to think about it, I don't want to imagine it…but I do. I'm horny and wet and turned on and…" her voice broke, as his fingers stopped suddenly, his hips halting in their thrusts. "And I hate you."

_Lie._

The silence that lingered at her softly and desperately spoken words was near deafening, the way his body tensed against hers undeniable.

Finally _she_ had shocked him.

The slight thrill didn't last long though, taking her by surprise once again, his lips found hers, turning the tables on her once more.

He kissed her rough and harsh, his teeth biting her lightly and demanding entrance as he turned her in his arms, his tongue pushing into her mouth without hesitation, devouring her whole and barely allowing her the chance to think, to even breathe. She fought him at first, red warning flags waving in front of her eyes, she tensed in his arms, and shoved at him hard. But he refused to give way, pushing her back against the desk so that she was forced into a nearly sitting position. And as she continued to struggle, refusing to respond, he smirked against her mouth, grunting a bit as he pulled her closer, claiming her lips again and again until she found herself surrendering, kissing him back hotly and sweeping her tongue into his mouth hungrily as the world tilted and spun around her.

She was fighting a losing battle.

Moaning softly, as he pushed his hips into hers, she froze, horrified by the sound, and once again tried to pull back—one last surge of resistance shooting through her fast. The effort, however, proved useless, and he growled deep and threatening, dragging her up against him and asserting his dominance as he continued to kiss her thoroughly, drinking her in and leaving her breathless as she was helpless to do anything but allow him to have his fill.

When finally, finally, he was finished with her, he pulled back, nipping at her lips once, twice, before moving away from her completely, leaving her to gasp for breath as he backed away fast—his eyes somewhat wild, his chest heaving nearly as heavily as hers.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, she was still struggling with the shame and confusion that were swimming inside of her, shocked by the wetness between her thighs, and reveling at the stinging of her lips. And he seemed content with just silently studying her, his eyes vibrant and blue never leaving her as he watched her quietly.

_Anger. _

It flashed through her abruptly, hot and frightening, a rage building up inside of her fast as his words and actions caught up to her. No one had ever treated her that way and had gotten away with it. She had made a promise to herself long ago, when she'd been a mere kid stuck in the system, that no one would ever take her control away from her. And she blocked out the small and frustrating voice in her head that quietly asked if it counted when she had liked it, when she had felt something inside of her bending while something else, something foreign and terrifying had started to break free. Feeling livid and slightly crazed her hand moved of its own accord, opening the desk drawer she was leaning against and delving inside, searching blindly for the weapon she kept hidden there.

"Looking for this sweetheart?"

Her eyes shot up at the sound of his soft inquiry, a hint of heat laced through the quiet words. Dread and dismay weighing her down, Emma saw with a hitch in her breath that he was holding her gun out in front of him, a smirk dusting his lips even as his eyes gleamed with an unreadable emotion.

"Pirate." He said quietly, answering her unspoken question.

When she said nothing at that, her body stiff as she waited for his next move, he nodded slowly, the gun waving tauntingly before him.

"I believe I've made my point for tonight darling."

Clearing her throat, her eyes never leaving the weapon, she attempted to find her voice, "And that would be?"

She could hear the smile in his voice, the way her question both surprised and amused him, "Isn't it quite obvious love…" trailing off, he waited patiently, his words hanging between them as she slowly lifted her eyes from the gun to his stare. "I'm not done with you yet."

_Fear._

_Relief._

_Thrill._

And without another word, he bowed, mockingly, before straightening fully, and giving her a full and thorough once over, he met her eyes once again—the storm there still raging violently—as he held her stare for another moment or two. And refusing to look away, not sure she could if she tried, she held her breath, part of her relieved that he was leaving, while another part of her was unable to believe that he was simply going to just walk away—that the build up, the harsh words, the burning touches had led to…

_Nothing._

"Until next time darling." Raking his eyes up and down her more than likely disheveled figure once more, he grinned slowly, his gaze not quite meeting hers as he made to move. "I'm very much looking forward to it."

Turning from her, he left with smooth and graceful steps; an air of confidence surrounding him and her gun still in his hand, he never looked back as he made his exit. Watching him go, feeling the lump in her throat grow larger as her pulse started to race and her whole body began to shake, she leaned against her desk blowing out a shuddering breath as her hazy brain tried to make sense of what the hell had just happened, and even more terrifying…

What was still to come.

And pushing aside the quiet slightly accusing voice in her head that questioned her lack of fight, asking her why she had allowed him to gain the upper hand so easily while angrily informing her that she should have fought against him more than she had attempted to, she closed her eyes. Inhaling deeply, wishing everything would just go away for a little while, desperate for the voices in her head to quiet, she tuned out the world for a few brief seconds.

But she could still taste him on her lips, feel his branding touch on her body.

_Bend her._

_Break her._

_Ruin her._

When finally she felt as if she could function without collapsing to the ground in a confused and trembling mess, she straightened herself, smoothed her rumpled shirt down, and began to right her appearance with shaky and unsteady fingers. Once she was finally satisfied with the state of her clothing and her hair was properly tucked back into place, she pushed herself away from the desk, quickly gathered her keys and began to walk in the direction that Hook had left, ignoring the raw ache that still lingered between her thighs as she left the station fast, needing to get away from it—wanting the security of her home, her bed, her family.

As the cool night air hit her cheeks, her eyes swept the dark street; her legs still feeling slightly wobbly, and her mind still somewhat fuzzy she shook her head, forcing herself to pull it together. She was stronger than _him_...than this. And slowly walking towards her car, she tried to block out the haunting and teasing sound of his voice as it rang in her head, his words bringing a chill to her body, her brain protesting the threats he'd made even as a deeper, more potent thrill slid through her seductively, awakening something inside of her, something dark and wicked, something that she'd been trying so hard to keep hidden, suppressed and buried.

Something she had refused to let herself feel until she'd come face to face with a blue-eyed, quick witted, smooth-tongued pirate.

Something wild, dangerous, and unrestrained.

_Raw, unbridled passion._

And coming to a stop in front of her car, she scanned the area around her, a prickling feeling of awareness skirting across her skin as she realized with some alarm that she was most likely being watched. He was undoubtedly lurking in the shadows.

It _should _have sickened her.

But as she opened the door, giving her black surroundings one last look, her eyes seeking something she knew she wouldn't be able to find…_not yet_…she let herself into her car. Sliding into the driver's seat, she took a moment to breathe, in and out, slow and steady, before grabbing the wheel tightly, her knuckles going white with her grip. And feeling the last of her stubbornness begin to drain away, she turned the key in the ignition and stared straight ahead, her eyes unblinking her heartbeat surprisingly even as something inside of her shifted and clicked into place.

_Acceptance_.

His dark promises lingering in her ears, Emma silently and hesitantly acknowledged her fraying control, dimly aware she wasn't ready to give it all up yet but realizing that she was too far gone to fight it much longer. And with the thought resonating in her head gently she pulled away into the dark night, leaving him behind.

For now.

* * *

**The beginning of each chapter will have a flashback to their night together in Neverland. Just an FYI. Next chapter has a little more action than this one, a tad more murkiness, and a lot more dirty talk.**

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	2. Power

**Heed the warning folks. This is not rainbows and sunshine. **

**If the first chapter at all made you feel uncomfortable, the second might do the same. Although I do delve more into Emma's emotions and her confusion and frustration. So yeah. But please...this is dark and different and don't read it if you're sensitive about that kind of stuff.**

**On a side...thanks for your reviews! **

**I love you all and you're all amazing!**

**Please let me know what you think after this chapter AKA REVIEW!**

**(it's late will edit further tomorrow)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT!**

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"_What are you doing here?" his voice was quiet, tired, his features pulled tight and stiff._

"_I told you not to talk." She muttered softly, annoyance spiking hot in her veins as she moved further into his cabin. Her heart beat fast and painful against her chest, the dull thumping echoing in her ears as she stubbornly pushed away the voices in her head that were questioning her presence in his room—begging her to turn around and leave._

_Shooting her a slightly incredulous look, he raised a dark brow sharply, his features flattening into an unamused expression. "Go back to your boy Swan, you just found him…you should be with him, not seeking solace in the cabin of a pirate." _

_Clenching her jaw tightly at his words, something centered deep and low protested his mentioning of Henry, angry at his quiet dismissal. This wasn't about her son. This was about her—her needs, her wants, her desires. She saw the way he looked at her, was aware of everything he had done for her, and she'd be damned if she was going to allow him to push her away…not now._

_She wasn't done with him yet._

"_Is that really what you want me to do Captain?"_

_Her voice held a taunting note, the sound soft and cruel. And walking towards him fast, she disregarded the somewhat startled expression he shot her as she moved her body in front of his and pressed herself against him, one hand slithering up his arm and hooking around his neck, drawing him closer._

"_What game are you playing?" The question was whispered quietly, near reverently, his alcohol-laced breath feathering across her face._

_She smiled up at him, the grin feeling forced and fake as her body hummed in anticipation__—_wanting to take, needing an outlet for her confusion even as her mind and heart protested her intentions…

**_Not like this._**

_It shouldn't happen this way._

_The cry echoed in her head over and over again—resonating soundly, firmly, pleadingly.  
_

"_Isn't this what you want Hook…" Stepping back from him, she tilted her head up, appraising him thoroughly. "Isn't this what you've wanted for awhile now." And reaching out, she relieved him of his drink glass, placing it on the desk behind him, her body brushing against his as she did._

"_Not like this." His voice was strained, a pained look etched into his features, the words sending a jolt of anger rushing through her. "You just want a warm and willing body, you don't want me…not really. I'll not be your puppet. I'll not have you this way. Leave."_

_She hated that he knew her so well._

_Because he was right...she needed a warm body, she needed to lose herself in him—she couldn't deal with the raging emotions swarming inside of her since Henry's return. _

_She needed relief damnit._

_She needed him._

"_We'll forget this—"_

"_Shut-up." her voice was hard and low and surging forward she grasped his face in her hands, nearly laughing cruelly at the look of blatant surprise that flashed across his features. In a move that lacked finesse and grace, she forced his head to hers, kissing him hard and bruising, disregarding the way his body tensed and his lips stayed frozen beneath hers._

_He wanted her._

_She sensed it. She could feel it— the proof steadily growing more obvious as she pressed her body against his, the feel of his slow hardening sending a surge of triumph through her as she ignored the muttered curse he whispered against her still moving lips._

_He wanted her._

_He cared for her._

_Tonight she wouldn't take no for an answer…_

It wasn't so much the feel of cold metal clasping tightly against her wrist that awoke her so much as the way her body seemed to sense his presence—a hot flush sweeping across her skin, the tiny hairs on her arms rose with awareness. Her eyes shooting open, she lifted her head; her gaze immediately clashing with piercing and familiar blue as a telling and dangerous click echoed in her ears. Lips pursing, heart pounding, she stared at him silently as realization slowly sunk in.

She was cuffed.

To her own goddamned bed.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Hook's smile was cool, sadistic and calculating, matching his villainous and callous reputation of legend as it spread slowly across his lips. And for a moment, for a few breath-hitching seconds, she felt fear. Real honest to goodness fear. Unsure what he was capable of, curious what he had come to her for this time, she attempted to calm her suddenly rapid breathing and desperately tried to soothe the swirling and panicked thoughts that immediately sprung to life in her head.

She should yell for help.

She should kick and scream and create a messy scene.

_She should fight._

Instead she remained quiet.

Peering at him closer, straining slightly against her cuff, she realized with some surprise and no small amount of relief that the cruel grin didn't quite meet his eyes—something soft, hesitant, and unreadable flashed in the vivid depths before fading away completely and disappearing entirely.

_But she had seen it. _

And as the air grew thick with tension around them—the quiet near deafening—silently, hopefully, she grasped onto that soft, uncertain look. "Hook," she whispered softly, her voice coming out raspier than she would have liked, "What are you doing here?"

Not answering her right away, Hook stepped back from her bed; and rocking back on his heels, he brought a hand to his stubble, scratching it purposefully as studied her—a dark glint lighting his gaze as it roamed over her appreciatively. God damn him, he looked like sin; radiating dark and wicked promise as he stood in the shadows of her room dressed in leather and black, blanketed in the dim light of the filtered moon.

_Danger._

"You had to figure it would only be a matter of time darling…until the tables were turned."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've pictured you bound up and at my mercy for sometime now Swan…I always thought you had a thing for it anyway…after all you've never been shy about tying me up isn't that right sweetheart?"

The guy really did know how to hold a friggin grudge.

"Hook." She said his name sharply, the word whooshing out of her as she uselessly strained against the metal once again. And feeling a pinch, she gritted her teeth and studied the lock.

Don't panic.

_Don't._

_Panic._

A nip of pain shooting up her arm as the cuff dug into her wrist, she cursed softly, violently, and bringing her free hand up to her face, she rubbed the last of the lingering sleep from her eyes as he leisurely walked to the foot of the bed—her gaze alert and following his every move.

"Hook," she started again, this time firmer, steadier, angrier. "Get this goddamned thing off me or I swear to God…"

Her words trailed off meaningfully and she watched as he continued to stay silent, seemingly unconcerned by her idle threat. Instead of jumping to action, heeding her request and freeing her on the spot, he stared at her intently, _curiously_, with his stormy sea-colored eyes. And raising a brow, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smug and infuriating smirk, the smile unquestionably devastating.

It was unnerving.

_And annoying._

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes drank her in, sliding his gaze over her freely, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as he continued to stare. Dressed in a flimsy white tank top and loose pajama pants, she couldn't help the shudder that rippled over her under his unblinking scrutiny, something cool slithering across her skin even as her insides suddenly roared hot, her body peaking with awareness. _She felt exposed and naked_. Still staring at her carefully, slowly he stepped back, and cocking his head to the side, he let his eyes continue to wander, looking at her as if she were some complex puzzle he had yet to figure out.

He was reading her.

Always reading her.

Pulling against the cuff again, Emma struggled with it for a moment, not caring how ridiculous she looked fighting against the unbreakable metal—somewhat curious why he had only bound her one hand.

_What had he planned?_

_Why was he toying with her?_

Glancing around, her eyes scanned her immediate surroundings, looking for something…_anything…t_o help her pick the lock…cursing when she saw her nightstand was clear, everything else out of her reach.

"Darling, your efforts are quite futile I can assure you that much." His voice broke the silence, her eyes snapping to his at the sound. "You really think I'm going to simply let you slip away while I'm watching…what is the fun in that?" Making a tisking noise, he began moving around her bed again, deliberately trailing his good hand across her comforter as he did. Coming up on the other side, his eyes burning into her hotly, he leaned towards her ever so slightly, his lips quirking into another hint of a smile. "Why would I go through all the trouble…breaking in, sneaking past your family, and cuffing you to your bed…"

He paused for a moment, his gaze wandering down the length of her body—his eyes crinkling a bit at the corners as he swept them over her purposefully. "And a hell of a bed it is Swan…looks comfortable…_sturdy_." Warning bells ringing shrilly in her head, she opened her mouth to shoot a retort at him as her muddled brain still tried to grasp her somewhat dire situation. But he merely raised his hand, cutting off her words before she even had the chance to speak them. "Why would I do all of that…if I simply intended to let you break free?"

_Valid question._

Pulling at the cuff she glared at him with all the unmasked vehemence she could manage, ignoring the unwanted warmth that was pooling low in her belly as she considered his possible intentions—her body and mind clashing as one fought the others reaction.

"Is this your idea of a sick joke?" She hissed the words at him, her voice dropping low midway through the accusation as suddenly_, worriedly,_ her thoughts shot to her parents downstairs and Henry only a room away. Silently she prayed they'd remain undisturbed.

She'd never be able to face them again if they saw her like this,

Vulnerable.

Humiliated.

_Weak. _

"You're crossing a line Hook...coming to my _house_! God dammit! You're lucky I didn't arrest you after…after…"

She swallowed thickly, her eyes widening as her brain jumped into overdrive. Images flashed in her head rapidly in unforgiving succession—his body pressed tightly against hers, pushing into her harshly as he rubbed her viciously from behind, taunting her as he bent her over her desk, whispering filthy things into her ear, forcing her to feel things she hadn't been prepared for, things she hadn't wanted to admit to.

"Let me go."

His eyes still intense and blazing met hers and held her stare; his expression eerily calm and betraying little emotion, he spoke quietly, "Sweetheart I believe I made myself clear the other night…I'm not done with you yet. In fact, I've only just begun…I'm going to _ruin _you…I'm going to break you like you broke— He paused abruptly, an odd look coming over his features as he shook himself. Breaking eye contact, he grunted something unintelligible under his breath and took a moment to seemingly collect himself before meeting her eyes again and leaning over her even further. His face hovering mere inches above hers, he smiled slowly, a dire and brutal warning slashing across his lips. "I can't leave you alone Emma…not when you want it so _badly_."

_Bastard._

He was a cruel, selfish, stupid bastard.

Feeling the air rush out of her, her body going rigid as emotions ran through her fast—_shame, anger, lust, need, denial_—clashing together inside of her and colliding violently; she fought not to look away from him, refusing to give him the upper-hand.

She wished he disgusted her.

But he didn't.

Not enough.

Since that night at the sheriff's station, she had been struggling with herself—her wants and desires. For days she had wandered around in a haze, alternating between hating herself and feeling sorry for herself, hating him and wondering where the hell he was…why he hadn't come to her like he had hinted at and promised. It was infuriating and it was crushing—she had tried to get through day-to-day life, playing her role as the dutiful sheriff while keeping a watchful eye on the quiet town. And she had stubbornly ignored the unwanted fire he had lit inside of her, trying to squash it as it threatened to spread—the flames licking at her hotly as she had uselessly fought to keep herself under control, his heat laced warning echoing in her ears…

_Bend her._

_Break her._

_Ruin her._

And now, now that he was here, she didn't know what to feel—her body, heart, and head were all screaming different things, giving her mixed and confusing signals.

"You're sick." She whispered finally bringing her focus back to him, realizing he was waiting for her to speak.

"Am I?" He murmured the words softly, trailing his fingers up her arm, dancing them across her bare skin and barely flinching when she swatted him away with her free hand; the slap of her palm against his skin, burning her hand and echoing in the silent room loudly—the sting a welcoming and harsh feeling.

"Don't you dare touch me!"

His answering smile was quick, the way his eyes narrowed unmistakable.

He moved in the blink of an eye.

He was fast; but unlike at the sheriff's station when he had thrust her up against the wall, she expected it. She braced herself for impact when he straddled her suddenly, his thighs caging her in as he pinned her free hand to the mattress and pressed his body against hers, taunting her with his strength as his angry gaze found hers— her bound hand straining almost painfully as her arm was pulled at an odd angle. Shifting beneath him, she sucked in a breath, the feel of his arousal, hard and throbbing, surprising her even as a wave of satisfaction laced fear washed over her as a strange look came over his features when her leg rubbed against him as she struggled.

"Stop fighting me."

"Stop trying to fucking force yourself on me."

"Ahhh but you love it." His voice was barely above a whisper, the velvet notes soft and almost mocking.

And furious with the sound, annoyed with the way it sent a shiver dancing across her skin, she thrust her hips up, trying to shake him off, only to spit out a curse under her breath as he grunted with her efforts rocking back into her deliberately with a short rippled laugh, quite obviously thoroughly enjoying her resistance.

"You're an asshole."

"Mmmm…" he hummed at the statement, the noise sounding almost friendly, as if he couldn't agree more with the insult she had slung at him. "And I could fuck you right now."

"Get off!"

Instead of answering her, he slowly, rocked his hips against hers again; the tiny movements sending unwanted sparks skittering up her body as another low and deep chuckle escaped his lips.

"And you'd like it."

"I'm going to kill you., I'm going to cut off your other goddamned hand, I'm going to—"

"Keep talking darling…I can practically feel your arousal…this really does it for you doesn't it? This game of control and dominance."

"You think this whole thing is a game? Forcing yourself on me, cuffing me so I can't fight back? You're a sick bastard."

"Such a passionate argument Swan." Lowering his head, so that his lips hovered near her ear, he pressed more of his weight into her, the heat of his body warming hers. "But I know your secrets darling…every single filthy one of them."

He knew nothing.

_He knew everything._

"Dammit Hook! This is has to stop…"

"Scream now princess."

The whisper caused her to pause. Her chest heaving and head spinning, her eyes flashed to his as he raised his head to look down at her—his low demand slowly registering in her brain. "W-what?"

Lifting his mouth into a mirthless smile, clearly amused by her surprised and faltering question, his hips canted against hers, causing her to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek to prevent the soft moan that threatened to ripple up from her throat and escape her lips.

"Scream now, call for help…_do something, _anything other than this weak attempt…this _show_ of struggle." Dipping his head down again, he brushed his lips against her neck, dusting them upwards until they found her ear again, his stubble scratching against her skin—she could feel his mouth quirk upwards into what she could only assume was a salacious and knowing grin. "I'm seconds away from stripping you naked, if you truly seek assistance, if you want your precious family to come save you…scream now. Yell…shout…make a bloody scene."

"Hook—"

"This is your last chance darling before its too late…"

She shook her head, confusion clouding her brain as she tried to place his words, attempting to figure out this new angle of his.

What the hell kind of game was he playing now?

"I don't understand." She mumbled, trying her hardest to block out the feel of his body against hers, reminding herself that_ this _was wrong...what he was doing was _wrong. _

"Emma, Emma, Emma," his voice, softly lilting and silky smooth, fluttered hotly across her face, whispering to her quietly as his good hand tightened on her wrist and his hook drifted downwards, the metal catching in the waistband of her pants and tugging on them meaningfully. "I plan on making you beg, I intend to force you to admit to things you never thought yourself capable of acknowledging in the confines of that pretty little head of yours…let alone out loud…_to me. _I will break you darling and you will beg for it…and you won't even realize you're doing it until it's too late. If you don't try to escape me now, will your pride really allow you to yell for help when I've pushed you too far…when your naked and exposed…shuddering and dripping wet for me?"

Reeling from his words, she barely flinched when his tongue darted out slowly and traced a line up the hot skin of her neck. Lapping at her leisurely and nipping lightly at her once, he ignored her startled and muffled protest and the stiffening of her body when she finally snapped back to herself and craned her head away from him—the new angle apparently only exposing fresh skin for him to content himself with.

"And you will be wet for me, you probably already are…hot, wet, and _aching_...so my dear the choice is simple…we either end this now, you scream and yell and allow your parents to find you with the big bad pirate, ruffled but otherwise in tact…or you keep quiet and you do exactly what I say and know that I won't stop…I won't let _you _stop until I'm satisfied, until you've done everything I've asked of you." He ghosted his lips further up her throat, his teeth dragging across the shell of her ear. "Until you've yielded to me…_again._ Then, and only then will I leave you…for tonight."

_Mother-fucker._

Swearing softly, thoroughly rattled and shaken to her very core, she mentally berated herself, disgusted with the fact that slowly, surely she was becoming reluctantly aroused—her nipples stiffening slightly, her body humming, and heat pooling between her legs.

There was something wrong with her.

Maybe he had _already_ broken her.

Maybe she was past the point of caring.

Pushing herself further into the mattress, watching as he lifted his head to stare down at her, his eyes seeking and finding hers fast, she blew out a slow and shuddering breath, involuntarily getting swept up in his damning blue gaze as their eyes locked.

And it was there that quite shockingly she saw something she hadn't been expecting.

Behind the raging emotions, under the taunting threats, and just past the raw and obvious lust…wasn't the formidable and fearsome Hook, but _Killian_ Jones. The man who had come back for her, the man who had helped her find her son, the man who had allowed her to come to him that night in Neverland, the man who had let her take everything and had asked for nothing in return, the man who she had then pulled away from, leaving without a word, without explanation.

The man who she had pushed too far.

And _that_ was the man who truly terrified her, even more so than the villain of myth and folklore.

_He _was there hiding behind his own self-loathing and hate.

And he was giving her an out.

No matter how fucked up it was, he was giving her a chance to push him away.

_His eyes were nearly pleading with her to take it. _

If she called for help now, her parents would come. And while they'd find her cuffed to her own bed, thoroughly embarrassed, undeniably angry and unquestioningly frustrated as hell, it was something she would be able to deal with…_eventually_. She could lick her wounds and get over it...with time. But if she waited, if she let the moment pass her by, then he'd strip her bare—taking away any and all chance for her to deny him anything.

_Scream!_ _SCREAM NOW!_ A shrieking voice in her head begged her desperately, even as her body relaxed, some of the tension briefly lessening as she warred with her darker self.

She was conflicted.

She was confused.

She was scared.

"You're a bastard." She hissed it at him softly, the curse falling dull and flat.

And seeing a gleam of triumph flash victoriously in his gaze when she said nothing else—the urge to alert her family fading away—she allowed her eyes to drift from his, fixing them on the dark fabric of his shirt as he shifted his position above her.

"Unwise choice princess."

And without another word, he pushed himself off of her smoothly. Releasing her unbound wrist he pulled her pants down fast, ridding her of them and taking her underwear off in the process—exposing her to him completely before she had the chance to react.

As the cool air hit her skin, Emma closed her thighs, clenching them together tightly, her cheeks heating and heart slowing for a moment; skipping a beat and nearly stopping before pounding violently against her chest in a fast and erratic rhythm.

_What the hell had she done?_

"Don't hide from me Emma." Hook's voice was soft, his tone icy and demanding; it held a note of authority mixed with an undeniable warning—hinting at a man who was used to giving orders and expected them to be followed.

"Go to hell."

Even she could hear the lack of conviction her words held…the fact sickening her slightly even as she anticipated his next move, tugging at the cuff more for show than for hope at escaping. She had made her decision, even if she refused to acknowledge it—part of her crying foul, claiming he had taken the choice away from her the moment he had bound her to her bed.

"Emma…" he sang her name. Drawing her attention back to him, she watched as he stepped closer to the bed and smiled down at her, his lips twitching up humorlessly, devoid of warmth and emotion; any spark of the man who she had glimpsed only moments ago gone, hidden away while the ruthless pirate returned to play. "I make the demands and you follow them…just remember that sweetheart."

"Wait just…" She closed her eyes for a moment, looking for the right words, wanting to reason with him, needing to find some semblance of equal ground. She was at his mercy, she had chosen not to call for help and for some reason was _still _choosing not to, but even so there was a sliver of defiance still holding out inside of her, attempting to break through—calling her weak, pathetic, and twisted. "Listen I need to…"

Raising his good hand, Hook stopped her, his gaze flashing to hers as he eyed her coolly. "I want you to touch yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"Fuck yourself."

"What?" the panic in her voice was undeniable.

"I want to see you bury your fingers inside yourself. What the bloody hell can't you understand about that my dear?"

_Jesus Christ._

Her body felt as though it were on fire, her eyes fluttering downwards quickly at his request, taking a moment to process his crass words before boldly, almost angrily, flashing back to his. She shouldn't ache so much at his demand, her body shouldn't react so hotly to his sin-soaked voice. Heat scorching her skin, her folds growing damper and slicker by the second, she clenched her teeth, sucked in a breath, and attempted to collect her scattered and rebellious thoughts.

God dammit she wanted to hit him.

She wanted to fight him.

_She wanted to fuck him. _

"I'm waiting Emma."

"No."

Stepping closer to her, fury flashing in his eyes as her softly spoken refusal hung in the space between them, lingering for a moment before dying away, Hook raised a brow. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear." He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he drew nearer, his legs brushing up against the mattress as he leaned over the bed. "If you don't do everything I say, if you don't heed my every request, I will cuff your other hand to your bed…and I will leave you. Naked, exposed, and bound. _That_ is how your family will find you sweetheart…completely helpless…powerless…vulnerable." A small, almost gentle smile touching his lips, his eyes flickered down her body slowly, taking his time to consider every inch of her before meeting her stare once more. "Is that what you want?"

"No." she whispered the word softly, a sinking and heavy feeling settling in her gut as she imagined Mary Margaret and David finding her in such and awkward and defenseless state.

"Good girl. If you listen to me, if you do as I say, I promise to release you. Your family will be none the wiser." Drawing in a breath, his eyes roaming over her once more, he swiped his tongue across his teeth before slowly speaking again. "Now touch yourself Emma…or I will leave and your family will be in for quite a surprise with the rising of the sun."

_He was bluffing._

Suddenly, abruptly, she could hear the lie seeping from his voice—her inner detector screaming and roaring to attention.

He wouldn't do it.

He wouldn't leave her.

He wouldn't cross_ that_ line.

Shock, awe, and misplaced gratitude rushing through her fast, her breathing evened out as the tiny pinpricks of nervous energy that had gathered inside of her scattered.

And yet…

Her fingers were shaking as she lifted them to her body; embarrassment sweeping over her as her mind protested what she was considering doing. Even knowing that his threat was empty, his words meaningless, something inside of her, some normally dormant part, urged her to listen, pushing her into action. Hearing his sharp intake of breath as her hand traveled downwards, moving past her quivering stomach and hesitantly reaching lower, she blocked out the voices, not wanting to think too hard about what she was about to do and why. Pausing, biting down on the inside of her cheek as she reached her already wet folds, she took in a breath and closed her eyes for a moment—needing to calm her tumultuous thoughts, wanting to silence the roaring in her ears.

"Look at me."

Sighing, a tight scowl forming on her lips at the demand, Emma opened her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat as she locked her somewhat hazy gaze with his. Despite his calm and cool voice, there was a storm brewing in the blue depths of his stare; nearly every emotion imaginable swirling and raging as he practically glowered down at her hotly—his hand clenched tightly at his side, his mouth set into a grim and hard line. And it was as their eyes met, as she allowed herself to look at him, as she got swept up in his turbulent stare, that she felt her spine stiffening, something inside of her furiously and vigorously protesting their actions—his need for brutal dominance and her submissive acceptance.

_She didn't want this._

Not really.

As much as she reluctantly desired him, as much as she unwillingly needed him.

She didn't want it to continue like _this._

She wanted him to stop trying to hurt her. She needed to apologize for hurting him. The wounds from her actions in Neverland and his retaliation in the sheriff's station were too fresh…too real.

It was wrong.

It was all so very wrong.

"Show me what you do to yourself Emma, show me how you fuck yourself, how you think of me standing between your thighs and taking you over and over again. Show me how you scream into your pillow as you come undone around your fingers, wishing it were my cock causing you such pleasure. " He shifted closer, his eyes suddenly blazing as his words grew more heated. "_Show me."_

Defiance roaring strong inside of her, even as a surge of wetness gathered between her thighs, she squared her shoulders and pulled her hand back, narrowing her eyebrows as she did. "_No."_

It was near tangible—his fury matching her resistance—the air practically simmered and hummed with the sudden tension; the dark and silent room nearly sparking with pent-up frustrations and unspoken emotions.

She was toeing a line he had dared her not to cross.

Hook's sudden laugh was unexpected, the way it wrapped itself around her not entirely wanted. Nodding his head once, he grinned down at her, dark challenge glimmering in his stare. "If that's how you want to play darling." And moving fast, he lowered himself onto the bed; sitting on the edge, he grabbed her stiffened hand and yanked her towards him hard, his hooked arm wrapping around her waist and his smile widening when she crashed smartly against his chest. "I told you I'd make you beg…" he whispered against her mouth—his lips a mere breadth away, he waited a heartbeat before brushing them against hers softly, almost tenderly; the gentle caress nearly causing her to lean into his otherwise ruthless embrace.

She was so tired, so drained, so lonely.

A large part of her wanted to pretend that _this _wasn't happening, that his hold was kinder, that he had come to her under much different circumstances. She almost wanted to beg him to stop, to plead with him to let_ it_ go. Not because she was scared, not because she couldn't take it, but because she wanted and needed him—not his stupid tricks and devious games…_him._

Just him.

_Killian. _

In their own fucked up way they were the only ones who truly understood each other. He had pushed, and was continuing to push her, to the point of ruining her—threatening to bend, break and shatter her—all the while coaxing the nearly nonexistent sparks that had long ago been buried deep inside of her to a roaring and wild soul-consuming blaze.

It was twisted.

But she didn't want to let it go…she couldn't disregard it.

_You and I we understand each other. _

As if sensing the sudden change in her mind and body, somehow coming into tune with her wants and needs, Hook breathed in deeply, nuzzling her gently, his mouth hovering over hers in a ghost of a kiss, before pulling back abruptly and unwrapping his arm from around her middle. Flattening his lips into a severe line, he slowly ran his hook down the side of her face—the feather light touch cool against her flaming skin. "No lass I'll not be gentle with you…not tonight." His tone sounded almost apologetic, somewhat lost and unstable and before Emma could grasp onto it, before she could use it to her advantage, he was speaking again. "Now either fuck yourself or I cuff your other hand, rid you of your shirt and allow the prince and princess to find you in the morning."

"Don't." Weakly, she attempted to move away from him as he placed light pressure on her free hand, forcing it down—her emotions taking another dive as anger and confusion swam in her already hazy brain.

"Why didn't you scream before when I had asked you to? Why not fight me more if you don't want this?" he murmured softly; his larger hand grasping hers near crushingly trailed it down over her abdomen, moving lower still. "You've been waiting for this since the moment I nearly took you in the sheriff's station. You_ want_ this." He shifted closer, his body brushing hers again. "Tell me you don't."

Yes.

No.

_Please. _

She said nothing, her eyes pricking with tears as her brain screamed at her for her depraved wants and needs—she felt as if she were being torn in half, part of her craving his cruel touch and words while another part protested it.

"Show me Emma. Show me what you did to yourself after I left you at the station." His words danced across her skin, their breaths mingling together as his request echoed in her head, striking a sensitive chord inside of her. "Did you go home and fuck yourself?"

Before she could object, the denial on the tip of her tongue, he brushed his lips against hers once again and shook his head, stopping her words. "Don't deny it…you were frustrated…so hot and wet and angry…I could practically feel it. So, my love…" Shifting even closer to her, the bed creaking with their weight, he hovered their locked hands over her aching and wet center—so close to touching but not quite there. "Did you pretend it was my cock? Did you come hard for me darling?"

Gritting her teeth, Emma swallowed past her tight and narrowed throat, her thoughts screaming at her as she silently acknowledged the fact that _yes_, she had come hard that night thinking of him, of what he had done to her, of how she should have felt violated and angry…not sexually frustrated and craving more. Images of lying on her bed—her thighs spread apart as she had plunged her fingers in and out of her herself, whispering his name into the dark and wishing he was there, taking her hard, fast, and violent— flashed in her head, the cruel secret taunting her shamefully.

"Gods Emma…" his voice broke for a moment, drawing her attention back to him. And tensing against him, she awed in the fact that he had briefly lost his control, his grip on her lessening slightly, his power over her nearly vanishing as he shuddered against her. But before she could truly register it, he composed himself fast. Tightening his hold on her hand, suddenly, almost painfully, he forced it lower, brushing her clenched fingers against her slick and glistening folds. "Let me watch."

It shouldn't be so goddamned hot.

She shouldn't be aching so much to relieve the coiling pressure that had unwittingly built inside of her.

But dammit, with his hand over hers, his fingers digging into her skin, the spicy smell of him intoxicating, the wrongness of everything weighing over her, she found herself wanting to comply—the darker side of her breaking through and reveling in his actions.

"Show me there's a passionate woman that lies beneath that cool demeanor. Show me you want more than a quick ruthless fuck. I know you do darling. I can read you, I can see you…I know you're practically brimming with heat and lust and want. Show me there's bloody more than the heartless being that took _everything _from me that night. Dammit Emma show me."

_God it hurt._

His words hit hard—_heartless, ruthless, everything_—sending her body and mind into overdrive. It was twisted and sick and slightly demented; but they resonated throughout her, driving his point home and finally, _finally,_ opening her eyes.

_She_ had broken _him._

And while she still wanted him—in that very moment it became more than that. Suddenly, desperately, she wanted to soothe him, forgive him…make it up to him.

_She wanted more._

More.

More.

_More!_

"I'm so sorry," she whispered; the words slipping out of her fast as she straightened slightly, looking him square in the eye, noting the surprise that flashed across his features as her words skittered across his lips. Her hand still in his slipping lower, she allowed it to brush against her sensitive skin softly, the gentle touch nearly causing her to gasp "I'm sorry about Neverland, what I did…how I did it. I'm sorry I broke you." Suddenly, curiously, she felt a weight she hadn't realized she'd been carrying around lessen slightly, her breathing becoming faster as she kept her eyes on his desperate to say it again, wanting the weight, the pain, the regret to diminish completely. "I'm sorry."

"Emma—"

She dusted her fingers over herself, drawing her lip into her mouth, watching as his attention wavered. Swallowing thickly, she tried her hardest to steady her uneven breathing, the air suddenly thick and stifling. "You have every right to be mad at me, to hate me, to want to make me pay. I was wrong…cruel. I taunted you, I hurt you, I used you. And I _liked _it." Taking in a deep breath, she dipped one finger deep inside herself, feeling dizzy at the sensation of losing control while also simultaneously gaining it back. "I'm sorry." Leaning back, her chained hand burning and protesting its cuff, she shook her free one out of his limp grasp, watching him as she slowly and purposefully fucked herself, drawing her finger in and out in slow and deliberate movements—a slightly hysterical and giddy feeling taking over her at the complete nosedive her resolve took.

"I'm fucked up, I've been fucked up for most my life…I don't know how to deal with things…emotional, painful, scary things. I hit this point where I just shut down and close everything and everyone out that _matters most_. I did it that night in Neverland. I fucked you because I was confused. I fucked you because I needed release, I fucked you because it was_ easy_."

Shifting her angle slightly, dimly enjoying the way his face hardened, the surprise there fading way to lust, she purposely ignored the voices in her head that were still stubbornly crying out at the sudden change in her actions. Her fingers moving nearly of their own accord now, a broken gasp escaped her lips as her body began to tremble.

"What are you doing?" his voice was gruff and hoarse, his body shifting away from her—whether it was to put some distance between them or to get a better view she was uncertain.

She really didn't care.

"Exactly what you asked me to…I'm fucking myself."

"Why?"

"Because it's the middle of the night and I'm chained to my bed, I'm tired and still kinda pissed and…" she paused, her fingers stilling inside of her as a grave laugh bubbled up from her throat. "And I really don't have a fucking clue."

He didn't say anything right away—for a moment he appeared lost and confused; the dark power and control that had practically radiated from him earlier in near visible waves fading away. His breathing fast, his body almost vibrating, he stared at her hard from under heavy lidded eyes, almost as if trying to figure out what ace she had up her sleeve—what the catch was. And for a moment, she wondered if her submission, her eager participation, had killed the mood for him. He had been so set on being sinister and brooding and angry and threatening—if she complied easily, willingly…_enthusiastically…_then there was no way for him to break her as he had wanted.

"Add another finger lass."

His voice tearing her from her musings, she flashed her eyes to his and then, without hesitation, without allowing herself a chance to think it through, she added another finger; stretching herself greedily as she once again picked up the pace, pumping her fingers in and out of herself fast, still clueless as to how she'd gotten to this point in the first place.

"Does that feel good Emma?"

Her brain still jumbled, she nodded slowly, her eyes threatening to close as she fingered herself—the thrill of him watching her dimly registering in her head. "Yes."

"Do you wish it was my cock?"

She felt her walls clench at his words, her fingers faltering for a moment before sliding deeper inside, her wetness coating her fingers as she continued to move them. "Yes."

"Think about it…think about me darling. Fucking you, licking you, having you in every way imaginable."

The moan that tore up from her throat surprised her, but suddenly unable to deny the pressure that was building inside of her—had been building inside of her for some time now—she merely began to finger herself harder, faster, wondering if and when he'd undo her cuff and fuck her like they both so clearly wanted.

"I want you to ride me and then I want you to give up control and let me take you from behind. I want to slam my cock into you until you beg me to stop…until it's too much…until you feel as though you're about to break."

"Oh God." She whispered her body trembling as images of his words danced in her head, driving her fingers to move faster—her chained arm pulling against its cuff with her movements. She wished she had access to her other hand, the need to fondle herself more thoroughly running through her hot and fast.

"I want to use my tongue on you. I want it buried deep inside of you, teasing you, tasting you."

He sounded so far away, her eyes unfocused, her ears ringing. "Fuck."

"Taste yourself Emma…let me see you taste yourself."

She wasn't sure what she was doing anymore. She couldn't tell right from wrong, light from dark, good from evil. The whirlwind of emotions, the chaotic tailspin of events—how she went from angry, to hating him, to wanting him, to heeding his every request—fogging her brain and leaving her nearly weak and breathless. But regardless of her mind's cluttered resistance and her body's infuriating treachery—the words had just barely left his mouth before she found herself licking her juices from her fingers, the tangy taste only turning her on and fueling her desire even more. And frantic for relief, she buried them back inside of her needing to let go…

Needing _something._

"You want me Emma."

"Yes."

"You want me to break you."

_Yes. No. Stop. More._

"Say it." His voice, honeyed and smooth lured her to confess it—enticing her and drawing her deeper into the darker realms of her desires.

"Yes." The admission was whispered, shame and need filling her tone.

"Say it."

"I—I want you to break me."

"Say it again."

"I want you to break me."

"Again."

"I want you to…" Her voice broke off on a whimpered moan, her fingers halting as her mind cleared for one brief relief filled moment.

_No!_

Something white and angry flashed before her eyes, breaking through the gray and black colors that were clouding her vision, opening her eyes and leaving her gasping as realization dawned inside of her.

"Say it again Emma."

"I…"

"Emma—"

"No."

"Emma!"

"God dammit Killian no! I don't want this! I want you to…I want you to free me… forgive me dammit…I want you to…" her voice faltered and hitched; the world feeling as if it were tilting and spinning beneath her, she shook her head fast. "No! I don't want you to break me. I want you to fix me!"

As the breathy nearly sobbed words left her lips, she felt her eyes widen abruptly, shock humming through her system and vibrating throughout her body as her plea hung in the room, resonating soundly. Straightening suddenly— her eyes finding his, her fingers still lodged deep inside her wet heat, her breathing stuttering and her heart clenching—his words from earlier replayed in her head, echoing hauntingly.

_I intend to force you to admit to things you never thought yourself capable of acknowledging in the confines of that pretty little head of yours…let alone out loud…to me._

"Hook…" she rasped, his moniker tasting bitter on her tongue as she nearly sagged against him under the weight of her revelation—his statement continuing to echo as her blurted confession sunk in. "You…I—"

He didn't give her a chance to finish. Surging forward he crushed his lips to hers, silencing her words and capturing her in a kiss that tasted of resentment, want, and terrifyingly overwhelming all-consuming _need._ Her breath catching in her throat, her head spinning, and her body sparking; she returned the kiss without thought, her lips moving over his near desperately and opening up for him eagerly as his tongue slipped in to duel with hers. Here for a brief moment—since this whole warped thing between them had started—she found equality, giving as good as she got. They moved together in synch; their breathing coming in and out in pants, their bodies straining into each other, grunts and moans colliding together in erotic and muttered sounds.

And then, almost as soon as it had started, the kiss ended.

Pulling back from her, his expression unfocused, his stare hazy and glazed over, Hook blinked rapidly, his chest heaving, as his eyes searched hers quickly, seemingly looking for something anxiously...answers, redemption, salvation. And then, apparently finding it, without so much as a word, he pushed away from her hastily, his body stiff and his gaze averting hers as he lifted himself off the bed.

"Until next time love."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving just as quickly as he had come.

Panting heavily, her heart feeling as though it could beat straight out of her chest at any second, Emma stared at the door as it shut gently behind his retreating form. Her mind reeling, she leaned against her crumpled pillows, lifting a shaky hand to her head as she settled back. And it was as she was going to rub her temples that she realized with vague surprise, that pressed into the palm of her hand was the key to her cuffs, the metal digging into her skin so forcefully that she was shocked she hadn't felt it before.

Her eyes drifting to her closed bedroom door, she replayed the night's events in her head—the actions, the threats, the confessions, the realizations. She still couldn't quite grasp what had happened—whether he had left because he had got what he had come for or whether he had fled because more had been revealed than either of them had been prepared for.

Everything inside of her at war once again; her mind shouted that it didn't matter what had happened, pointing out that it was far from normal and anything but acceptable. And meanwhile, her heart protested the argument—the two of them were a far cry from ordinary, their walls and defenses anything but easily penetrable. While both their actions were wanton and more than a little immoral, it whispered that maybe the outcome of this whole fucked up thing would prove to be worth it.

Maybe from all this dark depravity would come something more. Something bigger, than either of them could have ever hoped for.

Or maybe he'd just end up breaking her.

Phantom words and ghost touches blanketing her senses, Emma attempted to shift her focus back to the cuffs and told herself that tomorrow, the next day…_soon_…she'd force herself to figure everything out.

Her trembling fingers fumbling to release her, it took nearly a full minute to rid herself of the metal's harsh and pinching grasp.

And running her hands down her half-naked body, it took less than that for her to finish off the job she had started, coming with his face flashing before her eyes and his name spilling from her lips.

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